20. PAUL
Sarah
Is an offer for a second date still on the table?
Paul
Is that a yes?
Sarah
Tomorrow night?
Paul
I’ll pick you up at eight, baby girl.
I stare at my phone in my hand, smiling like a goddamn idiot because the moment I saw her text, I knew another piece of that brick wall between us had crumbled, knocking my heart right onto fucking cloud nine.
“Paul!”
My eyes dart to the back of the court to find Glen calling for me, frantically waving me over.
“What’s up? And where the hell have you been? I had to warm up with Jamie.” I throw my hands in the air dramatically. He knows how much I hate changes because they throw me off my game, and let’s just say I don’t like feeling off my game.
He rolls his eyes. “I think there is a bigger problem than you having to play nice with Jamie for ten minutes.”
I arch a brow. Now, I’m curious.
He glances around, noticing Coach Rivers talking with the officials in the back. “Let’s talk in private.” He strides toward the locker room, and I willingly follow as a cloud of impending doom hangs above us.
Walking past my teammates, I see them all on the court, warming up smoothly, ready to take on the opposing team. We’ve been on a consecutive winning streak for the past few weeks and need this win tonight to keep heading in the right direction toward March Madness.
And I won’t let anything distract me from getting us all there.
After the door swings shut behind us, Glen turns, dragging a hand over his face before pacing back and forth.
“What’s going on, man? You’re kind of freaking me out.” I cross my arms over my chest, waiting.
He lets out a rush of air, pausing mid-step to look at me. “I figured I should tell you about my conversation with your girl.”
My stomach tightens as his words roll over me. “Tell me.”
“Well.” He drops his sports bag on the ground and takes a seat on a nearby bench, staring up at me. “She heard me telling someone in class today that I could hack into the professor’s computer to switch their grade.”
“I thought I told you to stop doing that shit,” I scold.
“I know. I know. But I need the money.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Anyway, she just approached me outside the entrance asking if I could hack into someone’s computer and phone for her.”
My eyebrows pinch together. “Whose?”
“You’re not going to like this…”
“Glen,” I grit out.
He reaches into his pocket and removes a phone, holding it out for me to take.
“It’s Greyson’s,” he says as my fingers wrap around the clear plastic case surrounding it.
My stomach plummets. Anything involving Greyson is not good. And the fact that Sarah is entangled just makes me want to strangle him without even knowing what’s going on.
“You’re sure?” Why the hell would she want Glen to hack into his things?
“Positive. But this is the reason why I’m telling you.” He sighs, looking up at the ceiling, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Fucking tell me, Glen.”
“She told me she needs me to delete a…”
“A what?” I clench my jaw, agonizing over the anticipation of what will come out of his mouth.
“A video…”
My vision goes blurry as I shake my head, blood pounding in my ears. “I’m sorry. Say that again.”
Glen pinches the bridge of his nose, wincing. “A video. She needs a video erased from his things.”
Rage boils beneath my skin. There’s only one kind of video that comes to mind. And to think that he has a video like that of Sarah causes me to only see red.
Everything. Is. Fucking. Red.
“I’m going to kill him,” I say, sounding calm when it’s the last thing I feel.
Glen grabs my arm and pulls me on the bench beside him. “Listen, we don’t know for sure what kind of video it is.”
I glare at him.
“Okay, maybe it is that kind of video.” He scrunches his face and reaches into his bag for a sports drink. “You know, shit like this makes me queasy. I can’t deal with this stress.” He guzzles his drink as he rubs his stomach. “I doubt either of us could get into his computer anyway. It’s more secure than the President’s.”
“He practically sleeps with it,” I note. “Doesn’t let it out of his sight.” I massage my aching temple. “Why didn’t she fucking ask me to do this for her? I’m the one who taught you how to do this shit.”
“Maybe she’s embarrassed and doesn’t want you seeing what’s on the video.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“And like hell, I’ll be letting you see what’s on the video,” I state, tucking the phone under my arm.
He chuckles.
“This isn’t funny.”
“I know. I know. I laugh when I’m nervous.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Have you ever mentioned to her that you can do this kind of stuff? That you’re a badass when it comes to computers.”
I shake my head. “No. The one time she saw my computer in my room, she freaked out and—”
Everything around me freezes.
She didn’t freak out about my computer.
She freaked out about the tiny camera sitting on top of my computer.
She freaked out because she was worried I filmed her when I would never do something like that.
But someone else might.
Someone like Greyson.
My knuckles ache as I grip the edge of the metal bench. An unfamiliar animalistic roar escapes from my lips as I fight with everything inside me not to go out on that court right now and murder Greyson.
Standing abruptly, I punch the closest thing next to me: a metal locker, splitting the skin on a couple of my knuckles. A few droplets of blood spiral a path down the back of my hand and then onto the floor.
“Shit, man.” Glen pulls my arm back. “You’ll break a finger and be out for the rest of the season. Is that what you want?”
“I don’t care!” My chest heaves as I slam both fists against the wall, panic engulfing me. The pounding of my heart beats erratically beneath my rib cage. My throat goes dry as I gasp for air. “I can’t fucking breathe!”
“Paul, take a deep breath.” He steps away, giving me space. “Talk to me, man.”
I drop my head, closing my eyes.
Inhale. Exhale.
Inhale. Exhale.
“It was him,” I say in a cracked whisper.
“What was?”
“Greyson. He fucking filmed her without her knowing. I know it was him. I’m going to kill him, Glen. I’m going to make him pay for what he did to my girl.”
“Okay, but how about you take a seat first.” Glen guides me back on the bench and hands me a bottle of water. “Listen”—he places his hand on my shoulder—“you’re coming up with a scenario in your head when you don’t know that’s what actually happened.”
“But it—”
“Maybe it is,” he rushes out. “But you don’t know for sure. And I’m not going to let you go out on that court and ruin your career by murdering Greyson.”
I hold my head in my hands, focusing on my breathing as I let out a shaky sigh.
“I just need you to spend the next couple of hours out there, getting your head in the game and showing everyone who the fuck Paul Weston is,” he demands. “And then, you can go find your girl and find out what the hell is going on.”
The buzzer in the arena sounds, making us both look at the door. It’s time.
I stand, rolling my neck. “This is going to be the longest fucking game of my life.”
“That’s the spirit!” Glen cheers as he jumps up, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“But if I find out it’s true, you cannot stop me from killing him.” I narrow my eyes on Glen, who only shrugs.
“If it’s true, I’ll help you.” He hands me a small towel to wipe the blood off my hand. “Getting away with first-degree murder is what friends are for.”